the triple dip madness
by bbkalachuchi
Summary: [AU, 2nd Person POV] "Jesus Christ, this would be so much easier if you would please stop being so freaking hilarious and adorable. It's just really so inconsiderate of you." Why falling for your best friend is a really bad idea, according to the universe's favourite plaything, Lucy Heartfilia.


**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN FAIRY TAIL.**

* * *

**The Triple Dip Madness**

"_AU. 'Jesus Christ, this would be so much easier if you would please stop being so freaking hilarious and adorable. It's just really so inconsiderate of you.' Why falling for your best friend is a really bad idea."_

_For everyone who thinks they've fallen for the wrong person; it's the right one, otherwise it's not love._

* * *

Mama –God rest her soul –and her really, really good genes had ensured you wouldn't have a hard time getting boys to notice you. And to your own credit, you are naturally talented at using the really, really great genes: responsibly, of course. You are also pretty damn smart most of the time about most things.

Given that you are intelligent, stunning, occasionally funny, and have great boobs, boys should be easy.

_Natsu Dragneel (__**+1-4175**__)__**-800-233**_

_THEY HAD JAMAICAN PATTIES IN THE CAFETERIA. THEY WERE GONE IN 4 MINUTES._

_I GUESS THE REST OF US…jamaiCAN'T GET ANY. AMIRYT :)))))_

You can't decide whether you want to laugh or cry and bang your head against your desk, cursing the universe for its cruelty and your misfortune. Of everyone you could have fallen for, you chose –actually, no, you didn't _choose_, you didn't _want_ this –the one who was both the most oblivious seventeen year old boy on the planet, **and** your best friend?

_Lucy Heartfilia (__**+1-800-233-4175**__)_

_8.3. AND JFC HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU NOT TO TEXT ME WHEN YOU KNOW I'M IN CLASS?_

So why do you have that stupid grin on your face when he does?

.

.

.

You know that this didn't happen over night. Brief notions of it had run through your mind whenever you caught yourself thinking of him, how to best advise him in his problems, how to convince him that he wasn't the worthless bag of nothing he identified as. You brushed it off so easily before, telling yourself that he was a close friend and you wanted nothing more than his happiness.

Maybe you set yourself up for this from the beginning. After all, the only reason you became so close in the first place was because he was never attracted to you in the slightest. Boys and their crushes you can never reciprocate make you uncomfortable. You suppose it's that air of certain expectations of you they hold, and you get quite enough of that from your father, thank you very much. This is probably karma, because yes, you can be a snob sometimes.

It's just so easy with him. You both give and take, no obligations tying you down except for loyalty and good company, which are given willingly. There should have been a red bell ringing in your head the moment your day felt incomplete without a dose of him and his annoying jokes.

.

.

.

You're at the bookstore together on a Saturday afternoon. What was once a place of quiet solace for you became his playground the first day you invited him to hang out. Today, you're playing his favorite game: racing to find the sex scene in adult fiction novels. Because you are a writer, you are rather quick, able to predict where the author would place the raunchiest parts of the story. Because he is a teenage boy, he is even faster.

"Here!" he shouts, thrusting the book into the air triumphantly. Your face pales in mortification.

"No," you whisper, "no, no, no."

He grins wolfishly. "That's three-two. You know the rules, Luce. You either buy it or read it aloud." And fucking Natsu knows when you bring your pocket money, and when you leave it at home so that you don't buy anything.

Face burning, you gingerly pluck the book from his hands. God, you just want to kiss –_kick_ the smirk off his face. Clearing your throat, you speak in the softest audible voice possible. "He slowly begins to slide her dress down, exposing her creamy white shoulders…"

Three minutes and five "I can't say this in public, Natsu!" –s later, you shut the book after reading the final word of chapter nineteen. He stares at you long enough for your gaze to shift elsewhere in discomfort before you hear him deadpan,

"Lucy, for someone as hot as you are, reading porn aloud shouldn't be this unsexy."

You slam the book over his head and he whimpers. "You try it, then!" you snarl, because you refuse to accept that that comment stung more than it was supposed to.

He chuckles before standing up straighter and pompously clearing his throat, just as you had. His voice suddenly gets lower and he looks into your eyes and you can literally feel your skin melting off your bones. "She places her lips on his neck and…"

Unfortunately, the live audiobook begins to attract a crowd of women (and a few men), ages ranging from fourteen to fifty five. You get boxed out by a few younger girls fighting to get a front seat, until suddenly you're standing on the outside of the circle. _Some of these people look like they do porn for a living_ you think rather nastily, but you can't help it.

"Not-not here," you hear a voice rasp from inside the crowd and your eyes widen. Jesus fucking Christ, he's doing dialogue!

Something snaps inside of you, and so you figuratively roll up your sleeves and push your way through the crowd. You reach out, grab onto his hand, and tug.

"And then, they –hey, Luce, I'm not done yet!" he says as you march away with him in tow. You ignore the booing and the catcalls, and most especially the pointed muttering.

"What a possessive girlfriend."

"Such a bitch." Damn straight.

But Natsu, bless him, bless your lucky stars, is too oblivious to put two and two together, so instead of being suspicious as he rightfully should be, shrugs and lets you lead him off to wherever.

"What's so great about books like that anyway?" you're fuming. "They're completely objectifying, and trashy and, and –unrealistic! No way in hell would any of those positions be possible!"

He taps his chin thoughtfully. "I don't know about impossible. We can find out if you want."

You whirl around to check if you heard right and your head hasn't actually exploded, and if he hasn't been abducted or if you grabbed the wrong person by mistake. He points at your stricken face and laughs, though.

"LUCY HEARTFILIA IS A CLOSET PERVERT," he screams for the whole street to hear.

Meaning, all you can do is screech and then hit him and then laugh along. And you think to yourself, it would have been much easier if it weren't for inappropriate sexual humor being such a big part of your friendship.

.

.

.

It isn't that bad, you tell yourself every night before you sleep. It's not as though you're sure you're in love with him. Maybe he really is just a really important friend that you love and you care for. It's not like you can tell whether you want to make him laugh or if you want to see him smile; whether you want to make sure he's never sad or if you want to wipe away his tears. It's not like you want to hold hands or cuddle or kiss or fuck or –

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck no. Hm, you have a really dirty mouth whenever he's involved. See what that fucker's done to the good little Catholic girl all your private tutors bought by your daddy tried so hard to train?

You sit upright and vow to yourself; you're going to try to quit while you're ahead.

.

.

.

You try avoiding him. Boycotting his texts, cutting across his attempts to corner you at your locker and drag you to the park with "I can't, I have something to do today," –it almost physically hurts.

You don't know much about love. But what you remember from the empty shell of affection you had given your next-door neighbor at age thirteen, from the way mommy and daddy used to fight before she got sick, love makes you hate. It makes you cry. It ruins itself in careless hands, and you don't go back to being friends.

Love makes you strangers.

You want him to be happy. You want to kiss it all away when he tells you how much he hates himself sometimes. But you are also so, so tired of not being loved as much as you love.

_Natsu Dragneel (__**+1-4175**__)__**-800-233**_

_Why did everyone listen to Sargent Pickle? Because he was a big…DILL_

Your glide your fingers over the screen over your phone, contemplating the perfect response. Instead, you throw your phone inside your drawer and push it closed before falling onto your bed. Something eats its way within your body and makes you hollow. You feel very tired, all of a sudden.

You want to reply. You want to send him a funny message and hope it makes him laugh, but you can't. It's for your own good, you tell yourself. You need to quit while you're ahead, before you're in too deep.

It is day four and you are failing miserably.

.

.

.

"Cana, how long is your essay about cuneiform writing?" Levy asks during your lunch period.

"As long as my dick," Cana replies. The girl had managed to disguise her vodka as bottled water, at which you feel a little impressed and horrified at the same time.

"You don't have a dick, Cana," you pause to say before taking a bite into your sandwich. You hate spam, but chew anyway.

"Exactly." She guffaws loud enough for the whole cafeteria to stare. You and Levy sink lower into your seats, giggling with your hands over your mouths nonetheless. Cana and Levy start waving at someone behind you. Knowing it is most likely someone from your group of immediate friends, you turn around with a smile and do the same. Your jaw drops however when you see Natsu walking briskly towards your table. He does not look happy.

"N-Natsu! Aren't you supposed to be in PE?" you stammer, not daring to look at his face. Levy gives you a strange look.

"Hm? Oh, yeah, I skipped," he says nonchalantly. Cana leans over to give him a high five, but you furrow your brows in confusion. PE is one of the only classes he excels in, and he had never willingly missed a session before. Your mouth opens to tell him so, but then he grabs your wrist and you run out of saliva. "Could we talk?"

He's trapped you. If you say no, Levy and Cana will ask you what's up, and once Cana knows what's up, eventually he will too. You nibble the inside of your lip, glancing back at your two other friends. You shrug and stand up. "Alright, we can talk on the way to the clinic so you're at least excused from your class." The corner of his mouth twitches, and you congratulate yourself on being the epitome of normal.

You walk the halls, and the first thing you notice is that he still hasn't let go. The area where his hand is wrapped around has Goosebumps. You still can't look him in the eye, though.

"Are you mad at me?" he asks suddenly, and the both of you stop in your tracks. Startled, your head whirls around and you finally see what he really looks like. His face is flushed, and his countenance is that of a child waiting to be scolded. You suddenly realize that there are some things more important than your own selfish pride.

"What? No, of course not –what gave you that idea?" you reply casually, making sure it sounds as though the mere thought is completely foreign to you.

"It just felt like you were avoiding me, I guess." He's right, but you can't ever let him know that.

"My dad's making me scan through some of his paperwork. I'm kind of getting warped into it because this could mean he's finally starting to believe I'm capable of getting stuff done." This, of course, is a lie; your father would die before letting you anywhere near his papers. "I'm sorry if I made you feel like I was avoiding you."

His eyes perk up, and he just laughs good-naturedly. It's clear, honest, and careless, and it makes you feel so warm. "Don't apologize, it's my fault. I was reading too much into it." He suddenly envelopes you in a bear hug, pining your arms to your side. Your knees start to wobble, and so you hold onto him tighter, burying yourself into the crook of his neck.

"I don't know what I'd do without my favorite freak," he murmurs into your ear. It's not supposed to hurt when he says that, but it does.

With great effort, you detach yourself from his embrace and lead him to the clinic.

"Okay, what's the problem?" the nurse asks as soon as you slide open the door.

The problem is that he is less than ten inches away from you and he still has no idea that when you touch it feels like someone is shooting a syringe full of electricity into your veins. The problem is that you've finally found that one thing you want but can never have. The problem is that he smells like sweat and mustard but you'd still fall asleep wearing his jacket and that's just really weird. The problem is that he has sharp front teeth and smiles like a child on Christmas day. The problem is that if you started dating, you'd only have two options in the end –you either break up or get married. The problem is that you're hopelessly, pathetically, in love with him, and you have no idea what you're supposed to do anymore.

"My stomach hurts," he whines. "I think I ate something I wasn't supposed to."

"What's new, Mr Dragneel?" the nurse sighs, as she ushers him onto one of the clinic beds.

.

.

.

Natsu is can pick up any instrument and learn how to play a song on it within two hours. Natsu is talented at any and all physical activities, which is why every sports team at school knows to call him when they need an extra player. Natsu is funny, Natsu is great with kids and animals. Natsu is a physically attractive teenage boy. Natsu is street smart, and a lot more perceptive than people give him credit for.

But he's no good at school. This is a fact that blindsides him from seeing anything else in the mirror. It's probably because society has done nothing to tell him otherwise.

Natsu Dragneel

1:36 AM

this is just fucking pointless im so stupid im never going to get this

like no matter how hard I try to sty focused either my head wanders off or it all just gets jumbled up in my head and i cant think straight

sorry for dumping all of this on u luce but i just needed to get it out

Lucy Heartfilia

1:37 AM

don't pull this shit with me, Natsu. I believe in you. You're going to get through tomorrow's test.

Natsu Dragneel

1:39 AM

luce i srsly fucking cant do this nothing is coming in i thought i understood this but i dont know how to get the excess regeants or anything

Natsu Dragneel

1:47 AM

okay sorry 4 bothering u. night.

Lucy Heartfilia

2:16 AM

I HAVE BEEN RINGING YOUR DOORBELL ABOUT A HUNDRED TIMES. OPEN UP IT IS RAINING AND MY BOOKS ARE GOING TO GET WET

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.

.

You try reverse psychology. Maybe the more you flirt with him, the less attracted you'll become.

_Lucy Heartfilia (__**+1-800-233-4175**__)_

Are you the reciprocal of sine? COSECANT LIVE WITHOUT YOU

_Lucy Heartfilia (__**+1-800-233-4175**__)_

U are the only (cos-squared + sin-squared) I want

_Natsu Dragneel (__**+1-4175**__)__**-800-233**_

HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA (I dont understand any of these but u are cute 4 trying)

Also sorry for the late replies, kinda in the middle of a date right now ;)

Attached to the message is a selfie of him with a smiling, silver haired girl waving at the camera.

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Your heart sinks to your feet, and with every step you take around your room you feel it getting crushed under your soles.

It's Lisanna, younger sister of the most gorgeous girl in school. She's a dancer, meaning she has a killer body that no amount of spinning classes will ever be able to give you. And there's always something about dancers that draws people to them. She's pretty, she's artistic, and she's one of the nicest girls you know. She was the one who introduced you to Natsu in the first place.

The difference between childhood friends and best friends is that the former is perfectly eligible for dating. You fall under the latter category. You see it now; you'll be the one organizing the incredibly rad way he'll ask her to prom, and you will take the picture when she says yes. You'll be the one he goes to for every piece of romantic advice, for every outlet for his butterflies.

And you won't do a thing, because you just want him to be happy.

But you mull it over, and given that you are crying in your bed, stuffing Cheetos down your throat, and thinking about how he's probably got his arm hooked around her waist and hating that image, you realize that no, you wouldn't be okay with it at all. This is where you start to understand that you want him, that you love him not only for his sake but for yours as well.

_I want you to be happy. Why can't you be happy with me?_

This is where you start to consider what it might be like if the girl in the picture was you. Would your relationship be any different? Or would it be exactly the same? Except of course, with great make out sessions. Otherwise you think your fights would still be as severe, your bond only marginally deeper, and your feelings reciprocated, which is something you want so, so badly it physically hurts.

Never mind, though. It's too late, isn't it? You try smothering yourself with your pillow.

.

.

.

"Luce! Hey, Lucy!" You stop walking but don't turn around. He finally catches up to you.

You incline your head slightly. "Hey, Natsu. What's up?"

"I asked Levy to explain that trigonometry pick up line you sent me. I'd give it an 8.8," he grins. You smile back, weak and mechanical. His brow furrows, and he immediately voices his concern.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm just a little down. Didn't do so well on my French test." That is, in fact a lie; your teacher had exclaimed 'Tres bien, Mademoiselle Heartfilia!' at least thrice while handing back the papers.

His face softens sympathetically and pulls you close. "It's okay, Luce, you know you're still the smartest girl in the year," he says with his face buried in your hair, and you there's that melting sensation again. Five seconds later, you're surprised you aren't a puddle at his feet. You have to catch yourself from sighing in disappointment when he lets go.

"Thanks, Natsu," you reply, and why, why, why do you have to sound so breathless whenever he's like this. The air feels empty, and you know you have to give a follow up because he's started looking at you expectantly, so you ask the dreaded question. "So…how was your weekend?"

"Oh, it was great! Lisanna took me to this pasta buffet last Saturday for lunch. I felt kinda bad though, because it was five dollars for unlimited plates and I sort of ate all of their Arabiata."

"So… you and Lisanna, huh?" A bewildered look crosses over his face.

"Um, yeah. We spent the afternoon together."

"Does Mira know?" You say, hoping to not sound too bitter. If the answer were yes, then you would honestly be quite surprised. Mirajane Strauss is a terrible gossip, and the first person she told whenever she finds something juicy is you. Mira is also the only person on the planet earth who knows about your feelings for Natsu, aside from you yourself.

"Yeah! I ate dinner at their place."

"Why didn't you tell me you liked Lisanna?" You burst angrily. Your face flushes, and to save face you add, "I'm your best friend, aren't I? But you don't trust me enough to tell me when you're in a relationship? Thanks, Natsu, I can tell I mean a lot to you." You turn on your heel and briskly walk away, blinking back the hot tears that sting your eyes.

He grabs at your elbow and you whirl around, hating how bratty you must seem, how ugly you must look and sound. His eyes widen at the sight of your red eyes and quivering lip, and when he opens his mouth you silently pray that he doesn't laugh, but that's exactly what he does.

"I-I'm not dating Lisanna! Yeah, it was a date, but it was just as friends. She's doing the exchange program thing in Edolas, so she'll be gone a year. It was sort of a farewell dinner since we've known each other such a long time."

You had completely forgotten about that. It's a wonder how, given that you were internally fuming with jealousy when the school had chosen her over you. You feel pretty ashamed of yourself.

Natsu wrinkles his nose and snorts. "Lucy, you weirdo! Dating Lisanna? Gross. That would be like dating my sister. And besides," he says, dropping his voice a little and inching his head towards yours, "she's with Bixlow."

Reconciling the image of the entire school's sweetheart with the punk rocker who is fond of sticking out his freakishly long tongue makes your head hurt. Your eyebrows shoot up and you scream, "Lisanna's dating -?!"

Natsu clamps a hand over your mouth. "Sh! Mira has ears everywhere. Speaking of, you're not going to tell her, are you?"

You consider this, given as Mira has always been completely open and honest with you, and keeping her in the dark would be tantamount to betrayal. But Mira, despite her angelic face and disposition, is a sadist. She would probably not be so welcome to the idea of her precious baby sister canoodling with the campus creep. You could not possibly do that to Lisanna, or for that matter, Bixlow, even if you don't know him that well. That would just be inhuman.

You notice his hand is still over your mouth, so you simply nod. He grins in satisfaction. "Okay, since we're cool, could you help me with my Geometry homework later? Free Taco Bell on me!"

You nod again, mouth curling into a smile beneath his palm. He extracts his hand, and you don't know if it's just you but it feels like he's moving in slow motion. You feel his fingers cup your cheek before sliding down, thumb lightly brushing against your jaw before his arm falls back to his side. You let out a deep exhale, not noticing that you had been holding your breath, had been closing your eyes.

He looks at you the way he looks at his geometry homework; completely lost, even though the answer is right in front of him. You grin and poke his chest, and this snaps him out of his trance.

The bell rings. He adjusts the bag slung over his shoulder. "I'll meet you by the statue in front! Thanks, Luce!" You wave as he runs off.

You can't go on like this.

.

.

.

"And to get the area of the sector, just divide the angle by three-sixty, and then multiply it to the area of the sector!" Your pen flies off the paper and you look up to study his face. You take a sip from your cup of diet Pepsi. "Alright so far?"

"Almost there, I think. So for the length of the sector, multiply it to the circumference, and then for the area, multiply it to the circle's area?"

"That's right!" you beam at him. His face lights up, and he is obviously pleased. "Why don't you try answering the last two pages? I think we're almost done here." He nods and begins his work, and though you do your best to keep your eyes on your own paper about derivatives, there's something that pulls your eyeballs from your sockets and glue them onto him.

He's concentrating. His mouth his slightly parted, but then purses when he comes across a particularly difficult question. He narrows his eyes and begins drilling the eraser tip of his pencil into his temple as he contemplates. His gaze slowly drifts to you, perhaps seeking some help, but then he catches you staring at him. You both hastily look away and down at your papers.

Cautiously, you dare to look up again. He's stretching in his seat, running a hand through his carelessly gelled pink hair. He swears to everyone at school that it is his natural color, but when you had asked him about it one day he stared at you and said, "I thought you were smart."

He's just so reckless and attractive and surprisingly kind-hearted that it pisses you off. _Jesus Christ, this would be so much easier if you would please stop being so freaking hilarious and adorable. It's just really so inconsiderate of you, _you fume quietly.

You reflect on the way you've been acting the last couple of months, it would have been obvious by now were it any other boy. But it's Natsu, and he doesn't notice the way you can't stop staring at him, the way your smile is different, the way you just kind of cease breathing in air just so you can inhale his scent when you hug.

And because he is Natsu, there is no other way for him to find out unless you tell him explicitly. Meaning, if you ever want to move on, you'll have to endure the humiliation and anxiety of waiting for him to respond, waiting for that dreadful "I only think of you as a friend" that you have absolutely no right to be mad or sad about.

Maybe it would have been easier if he had figured it out himself, to save you the trouble. But, alas, this is the one you love completely and foolishly and unconditionally and altogether too much. _Why do you have to be so stupid?_ you groan internally.

The sound of his pencil's lead snapping brings you back. His eyes flash suddenly. "You're just like everyone else, then," he says in a harsh whisper. Your eyes widen in alarm –you had not meant to say that aloud, and the thought itself had not a trace of malice, if only resigned frustration with mostly yourself.

He stuffs his things into his satchel before slamming some bills onto the table. He's still paid for your share. A few long strides and he's almost out the door. You have to shake yourself from the paralyzing confusion before frantically chasing after him, leaving your scientific calculator and your cellphone, even, behind.

"Natsu, wait!" you scream at him as you chase him down the street. You grab onto the back of his shirt.

He whirls around, and there is something on his face you don't think you've ever seen before. Or at least, you've never seen directed at you.

"I didn't think you would ever say that," he says, and when his voice cracks so does something in your chest. You can call him a moron, you can call him an idiot, but stupid is off limits specifically because of emotional scars running deep into his childhood.

"_You're so stupid! Maybe that's why your father left you here!"_

"_Why do you have to be so stupid, Natsu? Nobody loves you."_

"_Everyone is going to leave one day, Natsu, so there's no point being stupid."_

"_Your stupidity knows no bounds. Even with your skills you can't possibly hope for a scholarship with those grades. Don't expect a future."_

"I would never say that, Natsu!" you cry desperately. But then you just did, so you amend it to, "I didn't mean it like that!"

"What the hell else could it possibly mean?" he retorts. "I don't care if you meant to say it. If it slipped out, that means that's what you're really thinking!"

"That's not what I'm thinking at all! Complete opposite, actually –" you cut yourself. What is wrong with you today?

But Natsu is stubborn and feels things much too deeply most of the time. He shakes his head. "I'll see you around, Lucy," he says curtly before taking advantage of the fact that you have let go and brisk walks away.

It's now or never.

"I love you," you whisper, eyes on the ground, and it feels like you've burned a thousand calories. You look up, only to watch him continue walking away.

You sincerely attempted to be audible; he just doesn't appear to have heard it. You want to burn your hair, you want to claw your eyes out and have your mouth melt off your face. Damn it all to purple clad god damn cow-fucking hell. You screech like a banshee, and yeah, it's not the most attractive sound ever. "I love you!"

He's stopped walking but he doesn't turn around. You run in front of him, blocking his path from crossing the street. He stares at you like you've grown a banana from your ear, and his lack of response has you seething. "Did you not hear me? Do I have to say it again?" you say through gritted teeth. "I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you, I fucking love fucking you. And you're amazing, and you're smart and funny and you know me better than anyone else, and the only stupid thing about you is that you haven't realized by now that I would walk barefoot on broken glass if it would make you laugh." You screw your eyes shut to trap the tears and take a deep breath.

He's still staring at you weirdly, but his fists are balled so tightly that his knuckles are turning white. "Say something! You never shut up any other day, so you're kind of pissing me off right now," you say. You're probably going to regret being so mean and bratty later, but you have bared naked soul to him and he is humiliating you with his silence. A simple rejection would do, but you wonder if it would really hurt any less.

He points to himself. "I'm the idiot?" he repeats incredulously. "Who's the one who, ninety-five percent of the time, texts first? Who's the one who always asking you out? Who's the one who approached you at that party the very first time we met, and can I just remind you how much of a snob you were? You basically told me, after I finally backed off and started getting close to you, 'Hey Natsu, I'm so glad you weren't hitting on me at Lisanna's birthday, or else we would have never become friends!'"

"Jesus, Luce, I called you hot the last time we were at the bookstore! I'm pretty sure you know that I don't do that to any of my other female friends! Don't you catch me staring at you, when you do that thing where you puff out your bottom lip when you write or when you're shopping and I'm carrying your bags or when you're about to cry? So tell me, who's the stupid one?"

Your jaw drops. You probably look really strange, gaping at him with your mouth wide open like a fish's. That's probably when he blinks, the traces of anger are suddenly gone from his face and are replaced by amusement. Which is, quite possibly, even worse. God knows you are confused as hell, but slowly his words start to register.

He shakes his head, still chuckling. "You know what, _this_ is stupid. And I'm done being stupid." He places his hand beneath your chin and tilts your head up, effectively closing your mouth. But then he brings his head down to meet yours and his lips are so warm it makes your toes curl and your body feels like an exploding star.

You tiptoe and wrap your arms around his neck, anything to bring him closer and deepen the kiss. One of his hands is behind your head and the other is at the small of your back holding you up, and no matter how much taller he is you don't feel awkward at all, because these are his arms and you've been inside this home so many times before, but never like this.

You break apart and he rests his forehead against yours. "I love you. A lot. Let's go get some more tacos." You just nod, even if you're feeling kind of full yourself.

So you walk back to Taco Bell side by side, not much different from how you did just two hours ago, except now he's holding your hand, and you can see the people from the other side of the glass are smiling knowingly at you. You laugh nervously, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and glancing at Natsu, whom you realize is staring at you with his lopsided grin and this look in his eyes that makes you melt like butter. He sneaks in a quick kiss, and you can feel him smiling against your mouth.

Maybe being brave isn't so bad after all.

* * *

**A/N:** AH THIS IS SO SHAMELESSLY CHEESY BUT I'M NOT EVEN GOING TO APOLOGIZE BECAUSE KEYWORD, SHAMELESSLY. I'm too tired to edit this right now, but I probably will, later on. Thanks for reading through this mess! Reviews are highly appreciated, and I would love to know what you're thinking.


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